Chapter 2

I hid behind a pillar, watching Harrison's car speed away. When I finally came to my senses, my cheeks were icy cold with tears.

Back at the apartment we shared, the rooms were filled with my floor plans and design sketches.

At some point, I had pulled off the engagement ring, clutching it so hard in my palm that it bruised my skin.

"Nora, what are you daydreaming about?"

I hadn't even noticed Harrison coming back.

A faint scent of fresh oil paint drifted over. I looked at the sleek art tube in his hands.

With a tender smile, Harrison brushed a light kiss on my lips:

"I'm sorry. It's my fault you're upset."

"I pulled some strings to get this painting from the Westside Gallery for you. I heard you love this artist's style. Nora, for the sake of the painting, stop being mad at me, okay?"

Pulled strings for me?

A sharp sting stabbed through my chest.

Just thirty minutes ago, Chloe’s bragging post had already landed on my feed.

The photo showed that exact painting hanging in her new place.

[He said as long as I’m happy, nothing else matters! Drove across half the city to snatch an exclusive original for me. Too bad his memory is slipping—he forgot I love warm tones. As for this cool-toned one... I guess he can pass it along to his uncultured girlfriend.]

My eyes burned. The trust I had stubbornly held onto now felt like a brutal slap across my face.

As he handed me the tube, he noticed the red ring mark pressed deep into my palm.

Harrison’s smile froze, his voice laced with concern:

"Nora, what happened to your hand?"

I steadied my breath, casually pulling my hand back, and asked softly:

"Is postponing our house really just because Chloe has nowhere to live?"

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but the lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly:

"Of course. What else could it be?"

In that instant, every ounce of trust vanished into ashes.

I curled my lips into a faint smirk and said nothing more.

The tense silence was shattered by a sharp ringtone.

It wasn’t his usual professional ringtone. It was a girl's flirtatious, sweet whine: "Harrison~"

Harrison dropped it like a hot potato, quickly declining the call and watching my face anxiously.

I looked up at him:

"Chloe?"

There was no need to ask.

I lowered my eyes, remembering when we were madly in love and I had asked him for a special ringtone just for me.

He had refused self-righteously:

"Nora, I'm an executive now. Silly childish gimmicks like that will ruin my professional image."

"Does our relationship really need that kind of superficial nonsense to prove itself?"

Now I understood. All his principles were made to be broken—only for Chloe.

My simple question seemed to ignite Harrison's temper.

He stepped back, putting distance between us, his face hardening:

"It's just a ringtone! Can you stop being so paranoid?"

"It was my bad to delay buying the house, but if you're going to throw a tantrum over every little thing, I don't have the energy to baby you."

Right in front of me, he dialed Chloe back:

"I accidentally hit decline earlier. What's wrong?"

Chloe’s tearful voice echoed through the speaker:

"Harrison, the lights in my new apartment are broken. I'm so scared all by myself..."

Harrison didn't answer right away.

Chloe sobbed louder:

"Harrison, I'm really terrified of the dark."

I looked up and caught him staring intently at me, mouthing the words:

"If you say no, I won't go."

I let out a soft sneer, set the diamond ring—still warm from my palm—onto the table, and turned toward my bedroom.

The next second, Harrison’s suppressed anger erupted behind me:

"Don't cry, Chloe. I'm on my way. Fixing the lights isn't enough—I'll stay over for the next few days to keep you company. Let's see if you're still scared then."

The front door slammed shut with a heavy bang.

Only then did all my strength collapse, and I slid painfully down to the floor.